


Revenge

by Frackenwirte (orphan_account), HeRbIeZ



Series: The Merc [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Drug Use, Fights, Gen, Gore, Mention of Death, Minor Character Death, Surgery, just nonsense, non-canon, non-canon oc, other things that I will list later becuase I don't quite remeber at this point, plot twist(but my sister says it's not that big of a plot twist)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-09-26 20:21:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9920792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Frackenwirte, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeRbIeZ/pseuds/HeRbIeZ
Summary: Caesar plots for revenge against the person that had taken her father away from her so many years before and made her life in to the embodiment of constant hell, but little did she know how much she had done the exact same thing to nearly everyone she had meet ever in her life.And now she had to deal with it.





	1. A Slap Back to Reality

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, soooooooo ... I really don't know, just enjoy it

Caesar rummaged through a small lock box she kept all of her belongings in on the ship she now lived in with Bronson. She held her shrunk polearm in her mouth as she threw half of her belongings to the other side of her room, never to be seen again. (why never to be seen again?  Is it really messy so just lost or she will never be back or is there a small woodland creature sneaking them?)

 

After enough clatter, Bronson finally walked into the room, “Caesar, what in the stars are you- CAESAR!” He nearly tackled her as he grabbed the polearm out of her mouth and threw it away from them before grabbing Caesar face and fussing over her as if she could have died -which wasn’t entirely not possible in the moment.

 

“WHAT?!” Caesar yelled back, looking at Bronson like she too all of a sudden thought she was going to die.

 

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”   
  
“THIS IS A LOT OF YELLIN’!”

 

“I’m sorry,” Bronson said lowering his voice, “But what  _ are  _ you doing?”

 

“Lookin’ for my dad’s last outgoin’ call to me.” Caesar said, her eyes still wide and confused.

 

Bronson hummed, “Why did you have you  _ weapon,  _ of all things, in your mouth then?”

 

Caesar looked to where Bronson had thrown her polearm before looking back at him, “I didn’t have anywhere else to put it.” She turned back to the foot locker and shuffled through it a bit more, grabbing out a tiny black cube and shooting up from the ground, bumping Bronson onto his ass, and darting out of the room flailing  the cube around as she went.

 

Bronson was still in a bit of shock, laying on the floor, not knowing exactly what had just happened. Something about a last outgoing call from her dad? What does the tiny black cube have to do with it? Why does she even  _ need _ the last call from her dad?

 

Before he could question anything, Nero trotted past the room and gave him an all knowing I’m-going-to-sit-in-your-chair look. He rushed to push himself off the floor, making Nero brake into a run. Everything  turning into a race through the spacecraft to sit in the co-pilot's seat before the other could.

 

Bronson was fast, he was trained to be fast -most of his job was running away when you failed to shot the man standing five feet in front of you- but he could out run a beast bred for speed and efficiency. If the First Order ever wanted to get anything done, they should have armies of Nero in place of their stormtroopers. That would be something to see running after you.

 

Least to say Bronson arrived just in time to see Nero jump up onto the control panels and scatter around a bit, scaring the living day lights out of Caesar, before taking her place in Bronson seat.

 

“Damn dog.” Bronson huffed before walking up to Caesar, “Now, tell me way you need that thing with your father.”

 

“Trackin’.” She said blatantly as she fiddled with the small cube.

 

“What, exactly?” He pushed further.

 

“Where it came from.” She hit one of the buttons on it’s side and a small map popped up showing a blinking red dot somewhere rather far from them.

 

“And why would you track where it came from?” Bronson asked putting his hands on his hips as he rested up against the chair that Nero had claimed.

 

“Ta find the people  _ or _ person that killed ‘im. He had a datapad on him -how I got the message in the first place- and the ones who knocked him off probably got their grubby hands all over it,” She turned back the the ship's control panel and typed in the coordinates that pinged on the map, “Whether they got it still will be figured out here shortly.”

 

“Don’t we have other ‘heads to hit’ first?”

 

Caesar turned to look at Bronson, strapping first herself then Nero in to their seats before responding, “Nope.” The ship beeped at her and she quickly spun around and yanked down a lever sending the ship flying into hyper speed, throwing Bronson to the back wall and showing Nero a brilliant display of bright vibrant colors.

 

\--

 

When the ship landed, it did on mucky surfaces. Mucky surfaces that Caesar hates -not more than sand of course but still hates. Not quite solid ground comes into a close second to let's-just-hope-it-stays ground- she may have lived on a mucky planet but she also lived far from the ground.

 

She grabbed her helmet -that was her usual ‘how in the star do you see out of that’ mat grey stone looking, angular helmet- and signature large brim black hat on top of that. Bronson,  grabbing his own helmet before they made their way outside, told Nero that it was her job to make sure no one stole the place. She replied with a happy bark.

 

Once outside, they were met with bright red grass that went slightly past their knees and an oddly vibrant blue sky that held three moons and two suns. The ground squished as they moved forward and made Caesar gag at the sound -the smell on the other hand was actually quite sweet- and feeling. Bronson placed a firm hand on her back as they pushed forward following the small red blip that marked the location of the holder of her dad’s datapad.

 

Whether they killed him or not was yet to be found.

 

Hopefully they did, because Caesar is feeling a bit bloodthirsty about this time.

 

“Are there any Jedi temples you know found this planet?” Bronson asked as she made their way onto more solid ground into a forest of white barked and orange leaved trees. 

 

Caesar frowned in thought, her father had drilled all the planets that had temples on them into her head so deep that in her sleep people said she recited them alphabetically. “Nah, should be.”

 

“So we’re looking for a thief then,” Bronson switch on his laser rifle and a large smirk spread across his face under his mask, “Someone the universe wouldn’t mind losing.”

 

“I can’t say for this universe or the next but I sure as hell would like ta see their head on a spike.” Caesar said as she looked up and down from the map in front of her. 

 

There was something oddly familiar about, like she’d seen it in a dream of something. That or she had just lived on such bland planets for most of her life that she forgot how bright one could be. But there was definitely something about this place that seemed surreal.

 

“Wish we had a speeder, walks always kill me.” Caesar huffed as she heaved herself over a fallen log. Caesar may not have remembered  _ how _ she got her limp, but she sure as hell knew how hard it made any activity that had to do with moving the lower half of her body.

 

There was slight rustling behind her from Bronson moving something or other, then the next thing Caesar knew, she had somehow gotten onto Bronson’s back and he was acting like it wasn’t shit.

 

After handing over his backpack to Caesar before slightly rearranging her on his back and saying, “Map please.” 

 

To that, Caesar dropped the hand that held the map down in front of Bronson and acted like a sort of sentient GPS that she was happy to provide. Bronson was actually surprisingly comfortable for the armor he was wearing -Caesar was also covered in loose hanging silk sheet like fabric, but still.

 

Caesar actually found that, after a while, her her eyelids were starting to feel incredibly heavy with each rocking step Bronson took. After a while, he started to notice.

 

He added a little pep to his step, bouncing her a bit and bringing her back to the land of the living. The mumbles of ‘I wasn’t sleepin’ brought a smile to his face. “Of course you weren’t.” He said shaking his head at the ground.

 

“Of course you weren’t.”

 

“I wasn’t.”

 

“Ssshh Caesar.”


	2. Mayhue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When one goes looking for the past, expect the very unexpected and never believe for a single second that your right

“Just up ahead a bit,” Caesar said as she squirmed off Bronson’s back and down to the ground. She jogged forward a bit into a small ‘clearing’-ish area with a ship planted in the middle of it. Caesar eyes narrowed at her surroundings, something wasn’t quite right here.

 

“This is it?” Bronson asked when he finally caught up with her.

 

Caesar took off and threw back his pack that she had been carrying, “Keep your guard up, Bronson. Somethin’ don't feel right here.”

 

“Something doesn’t  _ feel  _ right?” Bronson huffed, “The last time something didn’t feel right someone came flying at us with a lightsaber.”

 

There was a loud thud before that same humming sound echoed out around them. The humm of a stable lightsaber came from behind Bronson. When he looked to Caesar to see if it was just his imagination, she was looking past him and to someone behind him. 

 

His brow flattened under his helmet, “I fucking hate Lightsabers.”

 

“Why Caesar, I never knew you roamed with such …  _ vulgar _ companies.” A voice cloaked in modulation said from behind him. Even with the modulator it sounded masculine and deep.

 

Caesar huffed a half hearted laugh, “Well, that’s somethin’ to say considering myself in all.” She pulled her polearm off her back and flicked it to it’s full length,  clicked it on. “What are you doin’ with my pa’s datapad?”

 

The man walked past Bronson looking only for a quick second through a black mask that looked like a checker pad. His coat flared out to one side of him as he walked -more along the lines of sauntered- over to Caesar. “Why would I leave something like that for the vultures?”

 

Caesar let out a little sight, “Recon we do this like old time?” She ask, her smirk audible in her tone of voice.

 

The man laughed -chuckled wickedly-, “Don’t see why we couldn’t.”

 

In unison, they raised their free hand up to the side of their helmets, clicking a small hidden button releasing a burst of air before pulling their helmets the rest of the way off. 

 

Caesar’s came off with a wave of hair puffing out around her head giving her the look of a supermodel of the five seconds before she snarled at the man in front of her. She tossed her helmet to Bronson, “Hold it for me, would ya hun.” Bronson caught her helmet without thinking, still in a shocked state and looking at Caesar in awe.

 

The man across from her took his off and threw it to the side with a little less finesse. He had darker skin and a bit of a fro that was braided down to his head on one side -the other left to do whatever it wanted- his hair was a mix of black and silver. He had doe shaped eyes that were a deep brown. He smiled back at Caesar 

 

“Well hasn’t it been awhile. You’ve seem to have become a little .. unkempt.” He said motion to his head in expression of her hair.

 

She scoffed, “And you're sayin’ ya haven’t?”

 

“I look perfectly fine, my-” 

 

Their blades clashed before the man could finish talking. They struggle against each other for a few seconds before the man pushes Caesar off of his blade and does a quick turn going for Caesar’s gut, which she blocks and twists out of leaving them standing apart from each other again. 

 

“Were you the one to put the knife in my pa’s back or was there someone else?” Caesar asked 

Her tone changing to one of more seriousness than the playful one she had before.

 

“Oh, come now Caesar.” The man started, “I didn’t kill your father, I’m much too young to have been old enough to knife let alone stab someone.” He lets out a little laugh and shakes his head at her, “Dear, I’m younger than you.”

 

Caesar narrowed her eyes at him. In one quick, fluid movement Caesar pounced at him swiping the blade across his face but not landing the strike. Her feet landed on his arms. Pushing herself off, she flipped back and landed on a knee. She snarled before lunging at him again. Blades struck one another in a rhythmic pattern, sparks flying all about.

 

“Who killed my pa?” She asked through gritted teeth.

 

The man laughed again, “What are you going to do if I tell you?”

 

“Find them,” She said sternly, leaning in close and almost crossing their locked blades, “And KILL them.”

 

She spun around and kicked the man in the gut making him stumble. She swung her polearm again knocking him in the head and landing him on the ground. Walking up to him and stepping on his chest, Caesar looked down at the man with hate in her eyes.

 

“Tell me who killed my pa, or I’ll take it from ya.”

 

He spat at her, “Try me.”

 

With a growl she bent down grabbing the side of his head tightly before steadily pushing him into the ground. There was a flurry of colors before everything evened out.

 

_ Images passed by her face like a movie on fast forward, stopping when it came to a large figure standing over a small boy on a tight street in the pouring rain. _

 

_ “Hold tight to this.” the tall figure said. _

 

_ “Father, where are you going?” the boy asked, a stream of tears running down his cheek. _

 

_ The man patted his head, “I’ll be back, I swear. Just hold tight to this, I’ll explain everything when I get back.” _

 

_ The man walked off leaving the small boy in the small side street clutching the package his father had given him tightly in his arms. Looking into the future, the father never returns to the small boy, year after year he waited but his father never came back. _

 

Caesar pulled back, taking a deep breath as she stood again. The man below her foot stared up at her, tears pooling in his eyes before finally streaming down his face.

 

“You're a monster.” He said hoarsely.

 

Caesar looked down at him with no emotion. She snapped her fingers and the man passed out. Taking her foot off his chest she leaned down once more this time collecting him up in her arms along with his saber. 

 

She walked past Bronson and nodded at him, “Pick up his helmet for me, would ya.” He nodded back before running off to go grab it.

 

\--

 

“What’s his name?” Bronson asked. He stood in the doorway while Caesar crouched down next to the bed checking the man’s pulse and other vitals. They were back on the ship in the spare room next to the broom closet.

 

Caesar placed his hand back next to his side, “Mayhue, that’s what he told me to call ‘im. I don’t know if it’s changed since the whole ‘Ren’ thang.”

 

“Mayhue?” Bronson asked with more interest than he was trying to show, “That seems so innocent.”

 

“People change.” Caesar said with a huff. 

 

She stood and walked out of the room, Bronson following behind her as she made her way through the ship. She didn’t know what she was going to do, she wanted revenge but the man to get it from was as dead as her dad was.

 

She flopped down into the pilot's seat, Nero’s head immediately settling onto her lap. Bronson sat in the seat across from her and placed a hand on her knee making her look up at him.

 

“What’s next, Caesar.”

 

Something clicked. She spun around in her seat, her fingers flying over the panel in front of her as she typed in the coordinance . A huge smile crossed her face as the ship took off, “We’re going to visit an old friend.”


	3. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is the part where everything comes back to bite Caesar in the butt

Caesar sucked in a sharp breath before ducking under the gun of one of the resistances soldiers fought her. She had been running from a trap set, most likely, for someone else. Dashing from the Cantina as fast as she could which lead her to be stuck in a small alley between two resistances soldiers.

 

A fist lands in the face of one of the soldiers. Not Caesar’s fist but surprisingly close to her face being the one punched. Before the man throwing the punches could realize who he was punching, Caesar spun around and grabbed the guy being punched around the neck and kicked the other in the side of the soldier’s head, both of her feet leaving the ground in the act. 

 

The man getting kicked hit the ground with a thud, blood seeping from a his lip and nose. Caesar planted a foot on either side of the man’s head before bending at the waist and throwing the arm she had around the other man’s neck forward, sending him rolling a ways down the alley.

 

Caesar huffed and went to run when the man under her grabbed one of her ankles. With a tsk she turned and nailed the soldier straight in the chest with a steel toed boot before running back the way she was going, jumping over the other man and ducking out of the alley into the crowded street of the run-down trash city she was in.

 

“All I wanted was some fucken grocerys, now even that’s illegal.” Caesar huffed as she made her way through the crowded streets.

 

\--

 

Bronson is sitting at the kitchen counter fiddling around with a deck of cards; Mayhue is across from him watching every hand movement he makes like his life depends on it. The older man's hands are locked in a set of old cuffs Bronson found in the loading bay. He had no idea why they were there but was happy to see them.

 

There was a loud thud at the side door to the ship before it opened. “Ow, fuck me six way to Sunday.” Bronson got up from his seat and looked at Mayhue for a second, who offered only a shrug.

 

“Caesar?” Bronson called out, “You alright?”

 

There was a huff before she came walking into the kitchen with two large bags of food.  Dropping them on the floor, she regarded Bronson flatly, “Define  _ alright _ .”

 

There was blood dripping from a busted eyebrow down her face and bruises starting to appear on both her nose and cheekbone. Bronson’s eyes widened and he reached out to grab her face, turning her head left to right as he looked over her injuries.

 

Mayhue, on the other hand, choked down a laugh, “What the in the hells are you getting yourself into now?”

 

Caesar looked at him out of the corner of her eye as Bronson started to clean up her face, “A whole lot of bolshit, that for damn sure.” she scoffed before hissing, recoiling from the little sting of pain the disinfectant made her feel, “It was an ambush, not meant for myself but I guess I was close enough.”

 

“Who ambushed you?” Mayhue asked, leaning on the countertop and scooting a little closer to both of them.

 

“I don’t know names case we ain’t that close but their uniforms sure as hells looked like resistance types- holy shit.” she pulled back from Bronson for a quick second.

 

Bronson, himself, winced at her reaction, “Sorry.”

 

Mayhue decide to ignore all of it and continued, “What would resistance soldiers be doing all the way out here? And why would they be setting up an ambush?”

 

“I don’t know, why don’t ya go ask them yourself?” Caesar said with only a quick look over at him before turning back to face Bronson.

 

“Someone important from the other side must be here,” Bronson concluded, “And where also wanted criminals so that is probably why they went after you. Or they could have just been posing as resistances soldiers and actually be for Farex.”

 

“Or Vixon.” Caesar added.

 

“They could also just be resistance soldiers. You did piss off quite a few of their officers in your life.” Mayhue offered.

 

“Not only that, but they could be that one guy who was to  _ rebellious _ for the resistance,”Bronson said as he tried to think of the man’s name.

 

“Captain Reed?” Caesar asked, her brows raising as she spoke.”

 

“Yeah, that him. If he’s coming after you,I’d gotta say you're fucked.

 

Caesar huffed, “Well, thank ya for your oh- so- kind words of support, Bronson. Ya make me feel like I can take on the world.”

 

“I try, Caesar, I really do.” Sarcasm laced the words that came out of Bronson’s mouth.

 

\---

 

“Ma’am, the woman you had placed a bounty on ten years ago has returned to the city. How would you like us to approach the situation?”

 

Farex sat in a large leather chair that had gold leafing around the arm rest. She looked out over the cold cloaked city with a faint smirk across her face. Vibrant  yellow hair curled into several large buns around her head contrasting nicely to to the dark blue latex suit she wore.

 

She tapped her finger on the rim of her bourbon glass and turned to look at the man who had come to tell her the news, “Approach her carefully and bring her in alive and with as little damage as possible and if you must hurt her try to stay away from her face. She is a very dangerous woman and will use everything at her disposal when cornered, watch yourself.”

 

“Yes, Ma’am.” the man said giving her a curt nod before marching out of Farex’s office. This was her time -finally- this is her come-back. Caesar left her for the vultures, it’s about time for Caesar to get what’s comeing to her.

 

\---

 

Vixon stood at a large window that had been replaced with a piece of plywood which had strange carvings scattered all over it. The carvings matched the tattoos and body paint he had covering his own body. His dark colored hair was spiked and shaved down on the sides giving him the appearance of a bird.  The armor he wore covered only half of his chest and all of the lower half of his body.

 

“Vixon, sir, she’s come back!” One of his men called from behind him.

 

He spun around to face the one who was talking to him with narrowed eyes, “And how do you know this for sure?”

 

“I saw her, sir. She was fighting people. She must be in trouble.”

 

Vixon took in a deep breath, “Our queen has returned. Gather your men, we’ll head out for a rescue as soon as possible.”

 

The other gave a quick nod, “Yes, sir. As soon as possible.”

 

\---

 

“Ma’am!” A resistance soldier yelled dodging between other other soldiers and officers. He stopped in front of a shorter woman whose blond hair was wrapped up into a bun that sat nicely on the back of her head. “Colonel Emrik, Ma’am. We’ve found the location of the woman you wanted to speak to.”

 

Emrik turned to face the man, taking the datapad he offered her and read over it carefully, “Good, very good.” She hummed before hand back the pad, “collect her with caution, she is a very dangerous woman and the only one that will be able to give us answers on Tidus. I want her alive and well, understood.”

 

“I understand completely Ma’am.” the soldier said with a slight bow, “I will get my best on it right away.”

 

\--

 

“A-ah, sir?” A man said hesitantly walking up towards Reed who stood tall and imposing in a grand Admiral's uniform from the war before this one. It had blood at the sleeves and chest where the man who had worn it before him had been shot. The greyed hair that laid next to his ears telling an awful lot for his age.

 

He stood on the bridge of an old star destroyer, looking out at the stars, “What is it, Private?” his voice clips through the air, making the man behind him wince.

 

“They found her, sir.”

 

Reed’s brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed, he turned to look at the Private, “Alive?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Get a team down there ASAP. Find her and bring her back here, I want her alive or alive enough. Is that clear?”

 

The man gave a little nod, “Yes, sir.”

 

There was a few moments of silence between them, making the man fidget nervously. Reed narrowed his eyes at the Private, “NOW!”

 

The man jump, “Yes, sir! Right away,sir!”


End file.
